


The Midnight Train

by IWantSpaghetti



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: But fun, F/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Short, frank is the punisher but no one knows, karen is clueless, they meet on a train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-04 12:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWantSpaghetti/pseuds/IWantSpaghetti
Summary: Karen is bored on the train and notices the man next to her has a hand injury.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Direwaggle42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Direwaggle42/gifts).



Karen’s train was the midnight train. She’d grown accustomed to staying at work late and coming home the next day. She didn’t mind the train so much, in fact, she’d begun to feel like it was her second office and home. She sometimes got multiple articles done in one ride and in others, she talked with the other regular riders. But this ride felt different. All the usual riders weren’t seen anywhere and it was nearly full which was something that didn’t happen on a weekday. 

Karen was sitting to a man much bigger and taller than her. His face had small cuts all over and his right hand was bandaged as if he had burned or sprained it. Karen looked at her left thumb, wrapped in the same white bandage, and decided to make a new friend over the small similarity they shared. She asked. “What happened to you?” 

He took a full second before he looked at her, another before he replied, “if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He said it in such a serious tone that Karen just laughed. Perhaps it was so late that in her exhaustion, she thought that this threatening stranger would actually become her new, sarcastic best friend. 

“Same here, buddy,” she said, giving him the thumbs up though she really meant to just show her thumb. He didn’t look amused and continued looking out of the window even though that showed nothing but the bleak tunnel walls. 

It was five more stops and Karen was getting impatient and bored. The man was still next to her, still looking out of the window, and still had his hand wrapped in that white bandage. Karen decided that she wasn’t going to leave the train until she figured out what happened. She said it was journalism practice, however, anyone that really knew Karen knew that she was just nosy and got into people’s business whether they let her or not. 

“So, this weather we’ve been having, huh?” Karen asked. Again, he took a moment before he realized that she was talking to him. 

“Yes.” He stated. 

“Did the weather happen to your hand?” She asked, and after a while, “and to your face?”

“Yes.” He said, hoping it sufficed and shut her up. 

“Cool.” She said awkwardly, not believing it. “Want to know what happened to my thumb?” 

He sighed. He really did not. He took one look at the woman and thought that it would be a cat. A very large, violent cat with talons for nails. “Okay.” He said because he knew she would tell him anyway. 

She looked around to make sure no one was listening, “you have to promise not to tell anyone.” He nodded. “A rat bit it off.” 

This took him by surprise so much so that he wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. “Why?” He asked before he could stop himself. 

“I- uh,” Karen didn’t think that far. “Ate his cheese.”

And before he knew it, he smiled a small smile. “Sounds about right.” 

“Yes. The rat ran around my house, with my thumb and cheese in its mouth.” 

“Crazy.” He said. 

Karen nodded. “So what happened to you?” She tried again. 

“An elephant stepped on my hand and kicked my face.” He said and chuckled a little to himself. 

“That’s even crazier than my story.” 

“I know,” he said. “It’s almost unbelievable.” 

Karen’s head fell. “Okay, you caught me. My story is fake.” 

“What? No way.” He deadpanned. 

“I’ll tell you the truth.” She said, and looked around again, making sure it was just the two of them in the conversation and not a third party listener. “You heard of the Russian collusion?” He nodded. “You’re looking at it.” 

It was the first thing her mind went to. The term was thrown around so much at work that it just slipped out. “See the FBI caught me, tortured me for secrets. Told them they were going to have to kill me before I say something. And boy did they try.” She huffed. “I cut my thumb on one of their sharp fences while running away.” 

He believed the last part but he appreciated the effort she was going to come up with a story. He wondered if she was an author who just rode on trains to get ideas for new characters, or just a very bored lady who liked to talk. 

“That sounds real.” He said and she nodded. “Alright, I’ll tell you what happened to my hand.” At this, she perked up, eyes widening and unconsciously leaning in. 

“You heard of the Punisher?” He asked. 

“Yes!” She said excitedly. The Punisher was another name that had been thrown around in the office a lot in recent days, everyone saw what he did but nobody knew who he was. It was rumored that if anyone got a good store about him that they could be up for promotion. Karen didn't believe in rumors as quick as some of her coworkers, but she was not taking chances with this one. “Did you encounter him?” 

“I am the Punisher.” He said. And just as quick as she got excited, she lost it though he could tell she tried to still look invested. “Saw some bad guys, tried to shoot them, but someone saw me before I got the chance and attacked me from behind. Long story short, there was a lot of glass and blood.” 

“That's insane,” She said. “What does the other guy look like?" 

“Dead,” he stated. 

“Yeah, my guys too.” She said, leaning back into her seat, almost trying to get comfortable in what she was saying. He nodded. “Anyways, I’m Karen.”

“Frank.” He said and stuck out his good hand. The hand that matched was Karen’s bad hand, still, she shook his hand but it looked comical with her thumb sticking upwards. 

“What are the odds though?” Karen said more to herself. “Two spies-” 

“The Punisher is not a spy.” Frank interrupted though she just continued with what she was saying. 

“On the same train. And sitting right next to each other.” 

“Almost impossible,” Frank replied. 

“And yet here we are!” She mused. 

“Here we are.” He repeated for lack of anything to say. A moment of silence passed before the conductor called another stop. 

“I got to go,” she said suddenly realizing it was her stop. “It was nice to meet you, Frank!” 

“You too.” He said and he meant it. It had been a long time since someone had made him smile, let alone laugh! 

She waved as she walked out of the sliding doors and he waved too, unknowingly with his bad hand, when he realized he quickly put it down and went back to looking out of the window as if the entire ordeal had never happened. Though has was certain he would ride this train again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to DireWaggle42 for requesting a part 2. I tried gifting this chapter to you, though I think I ended up gifting the entire work. Hahah oh well. Hope you enjoyed it.

The next time they met, he saw her first. He didn’t know whether to approach her or not, as she was incredibly talkative and he’d barely uttered a word to David on the phone earlier. But when she looked around and her eyes met his, she scooted over to the next seat and greeted him as if he were an old friend. So he sat down next to her and said hi. 

“It’s the big bad punisher,” she said, perhaps a little mockingly. 

“The scary Russian collusion,” he acknowledged. 

She nodded. “My reputation proceeds me. I see your hand is better.” She said, motioning to his hand. Better would not be the word Frank would use to describe it. In fact, he thought it looked better bandaged. Without the bandages, you could see the bright yellow bruises and the ugly red stitching. At least it worked, Frank thought. Her thumb was better too. It looked like it had never been hurt in the first place. 

“You thumb too,” he noticed.

“Yes,” she said, looking down at it. “Still can’t bend it though.” She tried to move her upper joint forwards but instead, her entire thumb moved forward. 

“Fences will do that,” he said, remembering how she hurt her thumb. 

“A fence?” She blinked. Then a sudden realization hit her. “Fences are awful.” He nodded mostly because he didn’t know what to say. 

A few stops passed before Karen nudged Frank’s arm. He inwardly cringed, that arm had been shot, stabbed, and punched more times than he would like to admit in the last week and it had just started to heal. “See that guy sitting over there with the lady next to him?” Frank nodded. “What’s their story?” 

Frank looked at the man. He was an older guy who wore very colorful clothing. He had his arm around a slightly younger woman who wore vibrant animal prints. He looked back at Karen who was staring at him expectantly. 

“I think,” Frank started. “They’re eloping together in Vegas. And honeymooning in Mexico.” 

Karen stifled a giggle. “Oh man, I was thinking something entirely different.” 

“What?” Frank asked, curiosity radiating across his features. 

“I thought they were father and daughter, or at the very least, uncle and niece.” She didn’t try and stop her laughter this time. 

“No way!” Frank said, looking back at the pair. “In what world are they related? In what world do relatives dress like that?” 

“Well-” Karen interrupted before Frank continued. 

“And hug like that?” He said, though by the time he’d finished talking they were doing more than hugging. 

“Point taken.” She said and continued to look around the train. “What about her?” She asked pointing to what looked like a fifteen-year-old girl standing in the back of the train. She looked completely normal if Frank was being frank. She wore blue jeans, had a black hoodie pulled over her head, and had a backpack slung over her shoulders. 

“Probably going home from school?” He guessed. 

“It’s nearly 1 AM,” Karen stated after checking her watch.

“Going home from night school?” He guessed again. 

“That doesn’t explain the roller skates.” Frank looked at the girl again and Karen was right; she was wearing red skates. Frank shook his head. “What do you think?” He asked. 

“I think she’s part of an underground skate club.” She answered. “Just like fight club but without fighting and with skates.” 

Frank looked at the girl again, who was getting ready to leave the train. “It’s possible.” 

A beat passed and Frank asked, “are you a writer?” He’d been wondering that since they first met. She was so quick to come up with stories and to see stories in the people around her. 

“How did you know?” She asked, and she was truly floored. She wrote under an alias, her pictures were never publicly posted, and she tried her best to keep things to herself. 

He shrugged. “You’re observant.”

“Awfully observant of you to notice,” Karen commented. 

Frank sat back in his seat. “Part of the job.” 

“What job?” 

He blinked. “Punishing people.” 

“You’re taking the Punisher thing very seriously” Karen laughed, though she still didn't believe him and was also glad they’d strayed away from the topic of her career.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.” He replied, shaking his head in what Karen thought to be exasperation.

“Yes, well, you got to admit the meat-hooks were a bit over the top.” She countered. 

“Maybe,” Frank agreed. “So what kind of books do you write?” 

“I don’t write books.” She answered plainly. 

“I thought you-” Frank started. 

“I write articles for a newspaper.” She finished. 

“Any I might have seen?” Frank asked. 

“Maybe,” she said cheekily. “I’ve written a few about you.”

“What paper?” 

“The Bulletin.” 

Frank looked up at the sound of the conductor's voice, it was his stop. “This is my stop.” He said getting up. “I’ll look out for it.” 

“Wait,” Karen reached out for him even though he was a few feet away. “It’s under the name Ryan Fletcher.” 

“Ryan Fletcher?” He asked, smiling 

“I have to protect my fellow Russian spies,” Karen said laughing. 

“Alright.” He nodded, walking to the door before it closed on him. 

“Bye Frank.” Karen waved. 

“Bye Ryan.” He grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see any mistake, please let me know.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked if Karen will ever find out if Frank is the Punisher which led to yet another chapter (to what was supposed to be a one-shot lmao). Anyways, enjoy.

It would’ve been a regular Tuesday night for Karen, except it wasn’t regular nor was it a Tuesday. Though to be fair, the clock read 4 minutes past midnight. And so it was just an irregular Wednesday morning for Karen. 

In recent weeks, the Punisher had been leaving an obvious trail, though no one really knew why. When the Bulletin caught wind of it, they followed up immediately. Imagine Karen’s surprise when her co-workers told her they finally figured out the Punisher’s identity and she’d known all along. She nearly fainted. She didn’t want to take the subway home that day, or any other day. In fact, she wanted to go home by taxi but her wallet was in enough pain already. So she sat, vigilante, in the uncomfortable blue chairs. 

He walked in, and from what Karen could see under his hood, he looked awful. Where there weren’t bruises, there were scratches or stitches. Karen guessed that maybe 30% of his face was unharmed, though, that hood really did hide his face. He looked around and when his eyes met hers, he instinctively moved to sit next to her. 

“You look…” Karen started. 

But his gruff voice cut her off, “like a million bucks?” 

“Like a messed up lava lamp.” 

“Should’ve seen the other guy,” he simply replied, leaning back into the chair. 

“The ones in the dumpster?” Karen asked though she already knew. 

His head snapped towards her instantly, but his eyes remained vacant. 

“I know, you’re not lying about…” Karen lowered her voice, “the Punisher thing.” 

He looked down solemnly. This changed the dynamic instantly. She was no longer going to be his peculiar seatmate on the train, she would just be the peculiar woman on the train. 

“I, uh, kind of made up the Russian spy thing.” She admitted. 

“That was obvious,” he said. 

“Yeah.” Karen blinked. And Frank, as much as he said he didn’t need anyone, hated this. He enjoyed her weird stories, and more so, he enjoyed her company even if it was for ten minutes every week. She was light and easy-going in a world where he carried heavy burdens. Of course, he could always talk to David. But that wouldn’t work; David was always complaining or joking, there was no in between. 

“What really happened to your thumb?” Frank asked her.

She smiled a little, bending it completely in her lap. “My friend has this couch. This really old, gross couch. I’d lost something earlier, I don’t know, a pen or earring or something. Anyways, I’m looking around the room and I look under the couch, lo and behold, there it was!” 

At this point, she was caught up entirely in her story she was making all these hand gestures, and Frank couldn’t help but smile, hoping that she forgot about the truth, at least temporarily.” 

“So I reach to get the thing, and he goes to sit on the couch. And what better time for one of the legs to give out?”

“How was it only your thumb that broke?” Frank asked, by her story, it should’ve been her hand. 

“Well my thumb was closest to the leg that was about to break. I got a few splinters in my hand though.”

“Must’ve hurt,” Frank said and regretted it a moment later. She was looking at him again with those curious eyes that looked right through him and right through all those bruises. He thought those eyes held a thousand questions but something stopped her from asking. 

“Your story was true, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” He sighed. 

She nodded. “You’re not going to kill me now that I know, are you?”

He shook his head immediately. “No.”

“Okay.” Karen said.

A few stops passed and Frank was getting a bit restless, there were so many odd people around them and Karen made no effort to come up with stories about them, she just looked down at her phone. 

“I-” Frank begun, “I read some of your articles.” 

And to Frank’s surprise, she laughed dryly. “The ones about you?” 

“A few, yeah. I liked them.” 

“Why?” 

“You don’t make stuff up.” He answered simply. 

“I get paid less if I do.” She stated.

“And-” 

“Frank,” Karen cut off. “What are you going to do? Everyone is looking for you and I don’t want to get involved more than I already am.” 

“You won’t.” And to assure her even more, he continued, “not that I think anyone will ask, but if they do, you’ve never met a Frank Castle, that weird guy you always talk to on the subway, his name is Pete Castiglione, he’s always beaten up because he’s in a… um…”

“In a Fight club?” Karen suggested. 

“That works.” 

“You’ve already failed.” Karen let out an exasperated sigh. “Rule one about fight club is that you’re not supposed to talk about fight club.” 

“Then he’s a, um,”

“A very clumsy man?” 

He deadpanned, “Pete’s not clumsy, he’s-”

“Accident-prone?” 

“Fine.” He said and she smiled again. 

Deciding against her better judgement, she stuck out her hand and said, “nice to meet you, Pete. I’m Karen.”

“Nice to meet you, Karen,” Frank replied, finally shaking her hand properly. 

“Soo, did you also see all those people who wore red and white striped shirts?” 

“If you hadn’t said something, I would’ve,” Frank said, the grin showing in the corners of his eyes. The tension slowly easing away. “It’s like all the Waldo’s wanted to be found.” 

“Maybe that’s what the needed all along, to find themselves.” Karen pondered comically. And the rest of the ride went on as it usually did. They made fun of people, or as Karen put it, gave them a story. They made a little fun of each other too. Karen still pretended she was a Russian spy, Frank thought that was her way or making fun of the Punisher a bit. But most of all, they enjoyed each other’s company for the short ten-minute ride. But most of all, Frank was glad to not have lost a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> err sorry for the grammar/ spelling mistakes, it hasn't been beta read yet.

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been beta-read/ properly edited. So if you see some bad mistakes, please let me know. :)


End file.
